Power Lost, Power Found
by Dannyblue
Summary: The story has been revised, and has a new title. Please read the Author's Note for info.
1. Default Chapter

**Title:** Power Lost, Power Found  
**Author:** Dannyblue   
**Email:** dannyblue2@yahoo.com 

**Rating:** PG-13, for potential violence.  
**Category:** Drama/Action  
**Summary:** Sequel to "Things Change". A crossover, in spirit, with THE HIGHLANDER.  
**Spoilers:** This is set some time is season 2 of SMALLVILLE. General spoilers for THE HIGHLANDER.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own SMALLVILLE, or THE HIGHLANDER. Other people, who are not me, do.   
**Distribution:** Just ask.  
**Feedback:** Please and thank you.  
  
  
**PART ONE**  
  
  
Chloe ducked, and just managed not to get hit in the shoulder. In the dim light of the room, she saw the silhouette of the sandbag pass by, just inches from her head. Taking a quick step to the left, she struck out. Her forearm hit the bag with a thwack, and it veered off to the side.  
  
Quickly, she reset herself. Body turned to the side, feet in a T formation for balance, arms raised in a defensive position.  
  
The next blow caught her from behind, square in the back. She let out a startled yelp as the impact knocked her forward, stole the air from her longs. There was nothing she could do to stop her fall, so she didn't try. She went with it, letting momentum take over. She tucked her chin in, elbows bent, palms flat. When she hit the floor, she rolled. Her body flowed over and up as graceful as silk. In an instant, she was back on her feet. 

Chloe spun around in time to see the  sandbag still gliding towards her. She threw out a punch, and could feel the power of her entire body in her arm. Her fist hit the canvas with a solid thunk, driving the bag back and away.  
  
Her harsh, labored breaths almost drowned out the sound of the next attack. It was a faint, soft as a whisper. Low. Close.  
  
From somewhere, she found the energy to jump, pulling her knees to nearly chest level. And just in time. The barrel passed beneath her feet, rolling under and away with incredible speed.  
  
Tired and off balance, Chloe landed hard...and wrong. As her ankle twisted beneath her, she let out a gasp of startled pain. As she staggered, she focused all of her attention on staying on her feet...and was completely unprepared.  
  
The sandbag slammed into her left side. The force of it, much harder than the last hit, lifted her off her feet.   
  
Time stood still as she flew threw the air. It was kind of peaceful, actually. She felt  light, weightless. The only sound she could hear was the air whistling past her head. The world, dim and shadowy, passed by in a blur. It seemed like it could go on forever...  
  
Until she slammed into the wall.  
  
She'd had the wind knocked out of her before, but never like this. It was like someone used a vacuum to suck her lungs dry. Then gravity reached up and pulled her down the wall. She landed on some well-placed bales of hay, which was good. But hay? Not as soft as people might think. At least, not when you crashed into it.  
  
"Chloe!" a panicky voice exclaimed. "Oh, my God!"  
  
As she started to tumble off of the bale of hay, she was caught by a pair of strong hands. 

  
"Chloe! Are you okay?" The voice was frantic now. "Are you alright?"  
  
Hands as frantic as the voice tried to...do something. Sit her up, or lay her down, or check her out. It was a little disconcerting. Especially since, in all the confusion, she wasn't all that sure where her arms and legs were. 

  
"God, I'm so sorry!" the voice continued. He sounded so upset, she almost felt bad for him. Even though his 'helping hands' were making her seasick.   
  
Then, a miracle happened. A single, shallow breath squeaked its way into her lungs. It was followed by another. Then another. And, finally...

  
"Clark," Chloe wheezed, trying to shrug his hands away. "Clark." Wheeze. "Sto-stop. Stop!"  
  
Clark froze. His hands stilled. And Chloe used one precious breath to sigh in relief.

"Chloe, are you okay?" Clark asked.   
  


Chloe studied her best friend's concerned face. He was kneeling in front of her, his hands wrapped around her forearms. And she could see the first sparks of guilt shining in his eyes.  
  
"I'm so sorry," he continued. "I didn't mean to push that last sandbag so hard. I really didn't!"  
  
Still too winded to want to speak, Chloe nodded, and hoped he'd interpret the gesture as, _It's alright. I understand. It wasn't your fault._  
  
But this was Clark, who wasn't good at reading subtle signals like body language, and facial expressions, and junk like that. So, she forced her labored lungs to produce sound.   
  
"I'm...okay," she panted. "Just...need a minute."

But, when Clark started packing for a guilt trip, a minute was a lot to ask of him.

"How do you feel?" he demanded. "Is anything"--he gulped--"broken?"  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes. During their first training session, she fell. There was no tucking and rolling that time. Nope, she crashed to the ground, landing in a graceless, painful heap. And she managed to break her pinkie in the process.   
  
After a month of training with...After the training she'd already gone through, Chloe was used to getting hurt. It was part of the Immortal package. But Clark, who wasn't even really at fault, acted like he'd committed a capital offense. For a solid week, even after the pinkie healed, he couldn't go ten minutes without saying, 'I'm sorry, Chloe.' At first, it was kind of cute. Then, it started to get on her nerves. She'd decided to never again tell him if she broke anything while they were training. Then, she found out about one of his other...talents.  
  
"I twisted my ankle," Chloe said now. She rotated her foot, and winced when she felt a twinge. "But that was before the bag hit me. Other than that, I think I'm all in one piece."  
  
Clark frowned, obviously not satisfied with her self-diagnosis. Eyes narrowed, gaze suddenly intense, he looked her over. Starting at the top of her head, he slowly worked his way down.  
  
Chloe tried not to squirm in discomfort. Added to all of the other weirdness in her life was the fact that her best friend was a human...well, alien x-ray machine. Knowing he could look through her clothes pretty whenever was bad enough. But he could look _inside_ her, could see her bones, and muscle tissue, and internal organs...  
  
"You're shivering!" Clark exclaimed, alarmed. "Are you going into shock?"  
  
"No. Just thinking thoughts it's way better not to think."  
  
Clark gave her a confused frown, then went back to his examination. "Well, I don't think anything's broken."  
  
"And, even if it was, it wouldn't be for long," Chloe reminded him. That was the part he always seemed to forget. "I wouldn't mind lying down though."  
  
"Oh. Okay. Sure!" Looking eager to be helpful, Clark jumped to his feel. He started to bend toward her. "I..."  
  
"...will _not_ carry me. I can make it on my own steam."  
  
Easier said than done. Thanks to her twisted ankle, Chloe had to lean on Clark to keep from falling down.   
  
As they made their way across the barn, they had to walk around the three sandbags that hung from the ceiling. Clark and Mr. Kent had rigged up this pretty cool system. They'd explained it to her, but she'd been too busy punching a bag to pay attention. Basically, the bags were attached to these roller thingies, like the kind on sliding closet doors. The rollers were placed in this channels that allowed the bags to slide wherever you pushed them. And, when the training sessions were over, the bags could be taken down and stashed in a corner somewhere.  
  
It was really the best alternative. After all, she couldn't spar with Clark. The first time she hit him, she'd break her hand, and send him on another major guilt trip. But she had to keep her limited fighting skills sharp. The bags were good for punching, kicking, ducking and dodging. They worked like a charm. Well, as long as the guy swinging them didn't accidentally push one too hard and send her flying across the barn.   
  
Finally, they made up the stairs to Clark's loft. With a grateful groan, Chloe sat down on the sofa.   
  
"Do you want anything?" Clark asked, hovering over her like a worried mother hen. "Something to drink? Ice for your ankle?"  
  
"Nope. This is good for now." She rested her head against the sofa back. "Ask me again in a minute, 'kay?" With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to forget the aches and pains. "At least there's no blood this time."  
_________________________  
  
Clark hurried back into the barn, an ice pack in one hand, a bottle of water in the other. He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, just in case Chloe had fallen asleep. Instead, he found her sitting up, her right foot on the coffee table.  
  
"You know what would be nice?" she said. "If the Immortal healing thing kicked in before all the pain and unsightly swelling."  
  
Clark winced in sympathy. Her ankle was almost twice its normal size. "That looks pretty bad."  
  
"Bad, but not broken," Chloe assured him. "So you don't have to buy me a fruit basket, or promise me your first born. Although, the box of candy was nice. Always like apologies when they come with chocolate." She gave him a good-natured grin.  
  
Chagrined, Clark ducked his head. Okay, he'd gone overboard when she broke her pinkie. But he'd felt so bad. Kind of like he felt now, after knocking her into a wall.  
  
Biting his lip to keep from apologizing again, he sat on the coffee table next to her foot. Gently, he eased the ice pack onto her ankle. "This should help take the swelling down."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
They both stared at her ankle, as if they expected it to miraculously shrink from the cold. When that didn't happen, neither could contain a sigh.  
  
"Oh, well." Chloe shrugged. "I guess training's over for today."  
  
"About that," Clark began. Nervously, he cleared his throat. "I've been thinking."  
  
"Uh oh."  
  
Clark gave her a baleful glare. "I've been thinking it's time we found you a real trainer. Someone who knows what they're doing, unlike either one of us. I mean, we're pretty much stumbling around in the dark here."  
  
Chloe shook her head. "I'm still not too eager to meet another Immortal. Yeah, they might be one of the good guys, a gentle soul who, out of the kindness of their heart, is willing to mentor a fledgling like me. They also might be a headhunter who'll have their sword drawn and at my throat before I could say 'howdy'."   
  
Despite her light tone, Clark saw the pain in her eyes. Pain, grief, guilt, fear, and a lot of other things. When she got that look, it wasn't hard to guess who she was thinking about.  
  
Merrick.  
  
"The teacher doesn't have to be an Immortal," Clark said into the heavy silence. "All you need is someone who knows martial arts, right? Someone who can teach you all the techniques and technical"--he waved his hand helplessly--"stuff. Someone you can actually spar with."  
  
"True, but the nearest karate school is an hour away," Chloe reminded him. "That's an hour there, at _least_ an hour for the class, and an hour back. I'd probably need to go two, three times a week. And, hey, I'd like to have a life."  
  
"Well," Clark began, drawing out the word. "There might be another alternative."  
  
There must have been something in the tone of his voice. The look Chloe gave him was filled with suspicion. "What alternative?"  
  
Clark took a deep breath, and forced himself to blurt it out. "Lex."  
  
  
  
(TO BE CONTINUED)


	2. Part Two

**PART TWO**

Silence filled Clark's loft. Even the outside noises--wind, birds, the hum of a tractor engine--seemed to stop. Chloe stared at Clark for a full minute, her mind blank with surprise. When she could finally speak, she said the only words that came to mind. 

"Lex who?"

Clark rolled his eyes. "Chloe, I'm serious."

"So am I," she assured him. Chloe shifted in her seat, wincing when the movement jostled her swollen ankle. "But, since I don't believe you just suggested Lex Luthor should train me, I figured you had to mean some other Lex I don't know about. Otherwise, I have to conclude you've gone nuts." 

Clark gave her an insulted glare. "I haven't gone nuts. In fact, it makes sense. Lex knows all about this stuff. He's always bringing people in from Metropolis to teach him fencing and self-defense. And, knowing Lex, I bet he was the best student any of them ever had. I'm sure he can clue you in on some basics you don't know yet."

With a thoughtful frown, Chloe remembered Clark describing one of Lex's fencing sessions. He'd also mentioned that the young millionaire had trained with a Navy Seal.

"Okay," she admitted. "Lex probably knows some stuff I wouldn't mind learning. But what brand of wacky logic made you decide Lex Luthor, who has a million-dollar company to run and probably much better things to do, would want to spend any of his free time teaching me, a person he barely knows well enough to call a casual acquaintance, how to fight?" She shook her head. "I can't even imagine asking him."

As Chloe rubbed her aching leg, she realized something. Clark was working real hard not to meet her eyes. He looked everywhere but at her. At the wall. At her ankle. At the floor.

"Clark?" she asked, more than a little suspicious.

"Well," he began, hesitantly, "see, the thing is, asking him won't really be a problem because...he kind of already offered." 

Surprised, Chloe's eyebrows flew up so high, they almost met her hairline. "What?" she exclaimed.

Eyes almost tentative, Clark met her gaze. "Remember that self-defense book I checked out of the library a few days ago?"  
  


"The one that turned out to be useless?"

"Yeah, that one," he easily agreed. "Well, I had it with me when I went to the Talon that afternoon. And Lex was there."

Groaning, Chloe put her hands over her face.

Clark nodded. "When Lex saw the book, he said I couldn't learn self-defense by reading about it and, if I was really interested, he'd give me a few pointers. I was trying to think of some excuse for not taking him up on his offer. Then I realized the truth couldn't hurt anything." Clark shrugged. "When I told him the book wasn't for me but for you, he said he wouldn't mind teaching you some basics instead."

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Chloe sighed. "I can see that happening. And I can also see why he'd offer to teach you since the two of you are friends. But he and I are virtual strangers."

"Not really strangers," Clark denied. "The two of you have talked."

"We don't actually talk, Clark. More like...duel with words. He thinks anything he says will end up as a quote in _The Torch." Chloe gave him a challenging grin. "Tell me he doesn't."_

Since he couldn't really deny it, Clark moved on. "Your dad works for him, and I think Lex really likes Gabe. Maybe that's why he offered. And, believe it or not, Lex is a much more generous guy than people give him credit for."

Chloe made a doubtful sound, halfway between a snort and a laugh.

"No, it's true. I know people think that, if he offers them something, it's only because he wants something in return. And, okay, sometimes he does. But he really seems to like doing things for people."

"Uh huh," Chloe said, still doubtful. "Take the pack off for a second, huh? I think I'm getting frostbite."

When Clark lifted up the ice-pack, Chloe studied her ankle. Her skin felt numb, and had a bluish, bruised tinge to it. Add that to the swelling, and it wasn't a pretty sight. 

"So, what do you think?" Clark asked eagerly.

Chloe glanced at her friend. She knew how eager he was for her to find a new trainer. Not that he resented helping her or anything. But he hated it when she got hurt, and always found a way to blame himself for it. The fact that she healed from any injury in less than 24 hours didn't seem to ease his mind one bit.

But Lex Luthor?

Okay, the idea didn't sound as crazy now as it had at first. But it was still weird. The thought of her and Lex Luthor, in a room, dressed in sweats, sparring with each other. 

But what were her alternatives? Training with Clark was helping her not forget what she'd already learned...she hoped. But he didn't have the skill to teach her anything new. Not like Merrick...

As usual, thinking the name made Chloe's heart sink. A familiar pain settled in her chest as memories of Merrick's voice--with its slight British accent and touch of humor--echoed through her mind. Not the voice of the man who tried to kill her, who she'd ended up killing instead, but the voice of her friend.

_You could spend the rest of your life in Smallville, and never meet another of our kind. But go to a large city like Metropolis, and you're likely to sense another Immortal within hours. Fortunately, most will leave you alone. But there are the others..._

And that was the problem. Just the thought of going to Metropolis terrified her. Shaky hands. Shortness of breath. Cold sweats. The works.

Over the years, Smallville had become her home. But she still thought of Metropolis as _her_ city. Where she'd return one day to find fame and fortune as a star reporter on the _Daily Planet. Which wouldn't happen if she was too scared to set foot outside the Smallville city limits._

She needed to learn more. She needed to believe she could handle herself if she went to the big, bad city and stumbled upon a headhunter who didn't care that they wouldn't get much power from her newbie Quickening. 

"Chloe?" Clark said, probably worried by her long silence.

Sighing, Chloe shrugged. "I'll think about accepting Lex's generous offer. Okay?"

Clark grinned as he put the ice pack back on her ankle. "Okay."

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Part Three

**PART THREE**  
  
_The__ next day._  
  
The Talon was packed. It was impossible to walk across the room without bumping into someone. Look in any direction, and you'd see a Smallville High jersey. The background noise, a combination of music, conversation, and laughter, grew louder by the minute. It was hardly the place to come if you were looking for a place to think.  
  
Unless your name was Lex Luthor.  
  
Lex sat alone at one of the coffee house's more secluded tables, barely aware of the activity around him, or the cup of coffee cooling at his elbow. His attention was focused on the screen of his laptop, and the article he'd downloaded from the _Inquisitor's_ website earlier that day.  
  
Lex picked up his cup and sipped the lukewarm coffee. A few reporters from the newspaper some thought little better than a tabloid seemed to be the only ones still interested in William Merrick's murder. While the case wasn't officially closed—and wouldn't be until someone was convicted of the crime—the investigation had been put on the back burner. After all, Merrick was only a temporary resident of Smallville. There were no grieving family members demanding the police find answers. No real leads to follow up on.   
  
And the _Ledger_ and _Planet_ seemed to share the same theory. Merrick was a security consultant, a very dangerous business. What if he'd been killed by an enemy he made long before he came to Smallville? Made sense.   
  
Even the unusual circumstances of Merrick's death had raised few eyebrows. In Smallville, people died under unusual circumstances all the time. William Merrick's decapitation was just one more oddity in a town where "odd" was almost normal.   
  
Only the _Inquisitor_ was interested enough to dig deeper. Of course, no one took what they'd 'uncovered' seriously. Still, it was an interesting read.  
  
Lex rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, and pressed his fingertips to his temple. Sharp blue eyes read the words he'd already committed to memory. It seemed Merrick wasn't the first to be killed in such an unusual manner. Or the second. Or the twentieth. There were reports going back decades of headless corpses being found all over the world. In each case, the wound was cauterized, so there was little blood at the scene of the crime. And witnesses in the area often reported seeing some kind of strange, localized electric storm near where the bodies were found.  
  
This fact made Lex's heart leap in his chest. He was convinced he'd witnessed such a storm himself. Since the night of Merrick's murder, his dreams were filled with visions of emerald lightening pouring out of the window of the Smallville High gymnasium. Stabbing at the sky.   
  
According to the article, these killings had become something of an urban legend. There were countless theories surrounding them, each a little more far-fetched than the last. Conspiracies. Cults. Aliens.  
  
Lex was intrigued by the fact that swords, often expensive antiques, were found near some of the bodies. Swords that had been used, blades covered with fresh blood that didn't belong to the victims.  
  
No sword had been found near Merrick's corpse. Had the killer taken it? Disposed of it? Where was it now?  
  
"Hi, Lex."  
  
Startled, the young millionaire looked up to find Clark Kent standing in front of him. Always pleased to see his young friend, Lex smiled. Then, he remembered the information on his computer screen, and how Clark might react if he saw it. Especially since Chloe Sullivan was standing next to him.  
  
"Hello, Clark," Lex said. He resisted the urge to immediately close the laptop. _Not yet._ "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show today." He nodded towards the young reporter. "Miss Sullivan."  
  
"Mr. Luthor," she said, nodding in return. Her smile was reserved. Cautious.   
  
"Can we…?" Clark waved at the empty chairs.  
  
"Of course. I could use the company." Smoothly, he folded down the screen of his laptop. "I've just about had my fill of expense reports."  
  
"Hmmm," Chloe murmured as they sat down. "Kind of a weird place to work, isn't it? I wouldn't think you could concentrate with all of this noise."   
  
"Well, I needed a break from the quiet of my office." He looked around the busy room. "And being surrounded by activity actually helps me focus on what I'm doing."   
  
"Expense reports?" she said, with just a hint of skepticism. She glanced at the closed laptop with open curiosity. "Uh huh."  
  
"So, Lex," Clark broke in, casting a warning glance in Chloe's direction. "It's actually good we ran into you. I was telling Chloe about your offer to teach her some self defense."  
  
"Really?" One of Lex's eyebrows peaked. "Since I made the offer last week, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten."   
  
"I almost did. But, when I told her about it yesterday, she said…"  
  
"Maybe," the young woman interrupted. Which seemed to surprise Clark.  
  
"What?" he exclaimed. An exasperated frown crinkled his brow. "I thought you said…"  
  
"I'd think about it. Which I did. And, hey, learning self-defense from a millionaire would be a great story to tell the grandkids." Grinning suddenly, she glanced at Lex out of the corner of her eye. "Plus, I just gotta see what you look like in sweat pants."  
  
Lex was surprised to hear himself chuckle. He often wore sweats around the mansion. Jeans too. But, for trips into town, he preferred the armor of tailored suits and slacks, silk shirts, shoes made by hand.  
  
"Chloe," Clark sighed. He cast a pained look up at the ceiling.  
  
"But," she continued, " I think it's only fair I give you the chance to back out, Mr. Luthor. After all, you really meant the offer for Clark. When he said I was the one who wanted the lessons, I'm guessing the offer sort of got extended to me in the heat of the moment."   
  
"Perhaps." Lex conceded. "But I'm actually looking forward to it. My regular instructor had to take some time off for personal reasons. Teaching you will keep me in practice until he gets back."  
  
"See?" Clark asked. "I told you Lex wouldn't change his mind."  
  
"I guess you were right," she agreed. But her smile was filled with doubt. Lex realized how odd this must seem to her. They didn't know each other very well, and here he was offering to spend several hours a week teaching her to fight.   
  
It seemed Clark recognized her unease. Lex watched, fascinated, as the two communicated across the table, with nothing but their eyes, and minute changes of facial expressions. It seemed the two were even closer now than they had been before. That tended to happen when two people shared a secret.  
  
It was a secret Lex also happened to share. At least, in part.  
  
_________________________  
  
_A few days after the murder, __Clark__ made a delivery to the mansion. It wasn't unusual for him to hang around for a bit to chat. But, this time, Lex since the younger man had a purpose.  
  
"So," __Clark__ began, unable to hide his nervousness. He shifted from one foot to the other, pushed his fidgety hands into his pockets. "I guess you're wondering why Chloe didn't tell the police she knew __Merrick__."  
  
"The thought had crossed my mind," Lex admitted. As he closed the door of his study, he was barely able to suppress a smile. __Clark__ looked so edgy, like he'd jump out of his skin at the first loud noise.   
  
How long did it take him to work up the nerve to come on this little fishing expedition?  
  
"I must say, I'm surprised," Lex continued. He pushed his hands into his own pockets. "As a reporter, I'm sure Miss Sullivan knows that, in a murder case, the police are always eager to talk to anyone who knew the victim."  
  
"But she didn't know him all that well," __Clark__ insisted. "Chloe met __Merrick__ right after he got to Smallville. He overheard her talking about the Wall of Weird, and I guess he was really interested. Chloe said he'd had some unusual experiences himself. So, every once in a while, they'd meet to talk about one of Chloe's investigations or something. And that was pretty much it." __Clark__ shrugged. "Chloe thought about telling the police. But she was afraid her dad would freak if he knew she'd spent so much time alone with an older guy he didn't know. Besides, it wasn't like she knew anything that could help find the killer."  
  
Lex nodded, more than a little impressed. It was a plausible explanation. Although it did sound a bit rehearsed. Like something two nervous teens made up and went over several times.   
  
Lex donned a thoughtful frown. "You're probably right. Just because she talked to him a few times doesn't mean she knows anything that could help the investigation. After all, you can talk to someone every day and never really know them."  
  
"Exactly," __Clark__ agreed. If he detected any hidden meaning behind Lex's words, he didn't show it. He was too busy trying to accomplish his goal for the day. "So, uh, if you wouldn't mind, we'd, uh…" Stuttering to a halt, he ducked his head. "Well, Chloe and I, we really don't want…"  
  
"Don't worry about it, __Clark__," Lex interrupted, putting him out of his misery. He placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. "If the police find out Chloe knew __Merrick__, it won't be because of me."  
  
__Clark__ sighed, his relief palpable. "Thanks, Lex."_  
  
_________________________  
  
"Then I accept your offer, Mr. Luthor," Chloe said, bringing Lex out of his reverie. "If you're really sure."  
  
"Absolutely. And I commend you for wanting to learn to defend yourself. I think everyone should. In fact, Clark, if you change your mind…"  
  
Shaking his head, Clark held up his hand. "I'll let you know."  
  
Just then, a waitress finally made it to their table. As Clark and Chloe gave their orders, Lex was surprised to feel a twinge of guilt for his little ruse, however innocent. As far as the teens knew, Lex had completely accepted Clark's explanation. He doubted either one was worried about what he knew anymore.   
  
Once again, Lex considered coming right out and asking what was going on. He could explain that, whatever the truth was, whatever it had to do with Merrick, he didn't want to use it to hurt them in any way. He just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. To understand what he'd seen that night. And why they felt the need to lie.  
  
But he knew Clark. Young Mr. Kent might not be the best liar in the world, but he was an expert at keeping secrets. If there was something he didn't want to reveal, he wouldn't, especially if he felt pressured. And, while Lex didn't know Chloe as well, he imagined she'd shut down if he confronted her directly.  
  
However, if they didn't think he was interested in their secrets, perhaps they'd start to let their guards down…  
  
"So, Mr. Luthor," Chloe began as the waitress hurried off. "When do you want to start? I know how busy you are, so it's entirely up to you."  
  
"I have some free time tomorrow afternoon. We can start then."  
  
The girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. That's fast."  
  
"Actually, I was thinking of starting today. But I'm attending a retirement dinner for an employee tonight. So, be at the mansion at about five tomorrow afternoon. And don't forget your workout gear."  
  
After that, the conversation wandered off in other directions. As he talked, Lex couldn't keep from smiling in anticipation. He was glad Chloe had accepted his offer to train her. He was convinced spending some time with Miss Sullivan could be very informative.  
  
___________________________  
  
  
He watched, a face lost in a sea of faces, oblivious to the music, the laughter, barely aware of the throng of teen-agers that milled around him. His entire focus was on one man, one face.  
  
Seeing Lex Luthor smile caused a ball of rage to tighten, like a fist, in his chest. He didn't deserve that smile, or whatever happiness had caused it. Didn't deserve to be sitting there, relaxed and content, as if he didn't have a care in the world. Didn't deserve the air of satisfaction, of confidence, that surrounded him.   
  
Didn't deserve anything.  
  
The watcher glanced at the two teens who shared Luthor's table. They didn't seem like the type he remembered Luthor associating with. They were too clean cut. Too innocent. Nothing about them seemed corrupt, or damaged. Not yet, anyway.   
  
It probably wouldn't be long before the young millionaire changed all that.  
  
Luthor stood. Saying a few words to his young companions, he picked up his laptop strolled out of the coffeehouse.  
  
Mouth set in a hard, grim line, the watcher rose to follow.  
  
  
(TO BE CONTINUED)


	4. Author's Note

Author's Note  
  
To the readers of "Power Lost, Power Found".  
  
The story continues, but it has a new title. Also, it has been revised from the version you've read so far. I also put it in the TV Crossover section, since HIGHLANDER characters will be appearing in the new version.  
  
You can read the "new" story here: fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1022965  
  
Or just click on my name at the top of the page to go to my personal profile page. You will find "A Highlander in Smallville" there.   
  
Thanks so much for your patience.  
  
--Dannyblue 


End file.
